


Puppet's Worst Nightmare

by SailorStarDust1



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon - Original Game, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Dubious Consent, F/M, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Game(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Puppet Cloud Strife, Romance, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:27:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21574489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorStarDust1/pseuds/SailorStarDust1
Summary: Despite Cloud's life returning to normal, his mental scars don't heal so easily.
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough & Cloud Strife, Sephiroth/Cloud Strife, Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife, Tifa Lockhart/Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Comments: 12
Kudos: 34





	Puppet's Worst Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Darker than my normal fics ( _Interconnected_ was as angsty as I'll ever write), this is a writing experiment for something different. If you think this content will upset you, then **please do not read** this. I'm _very_ much about properly tagging alongside content warnings (whether I'm writing fanfic or reviewing) so my feelings won't be hurt if you choose not to read this. I did make myself sad writing this one. Whoops.

There was only darkness. Eyebrows furrowed, Cloud felt a little frustrated that he couldn’t see the road ahead. Reaching behind him to keep his sword at the ready, was only met with air.

Cursing under his breath, he began walking forward in silence. Similar to that darkness surrounding him, nothing about it was eerie nor comfortable. It simply was.

“You don’t look so well, Puppet.”

That dry voice, that man, was blocking Cloud’s path.

Gut lurching forward, fear flickered across the blond’s features, any want for confidence simply wasn’t there. Anxiety was ready to swallow him whole.

All he could do was back away, expression deeply troubled. Swordless because he doesn’t _want_ it anymore. Doesn’t need it, anymore. With his battles—he could only hope, being now early February—long over.

Swallowing, Cloud readied himself in a defensive stance, past moments of sparring and training with Tifa coming to his mental forefront. It wouldn’t be enough against _him_. Overpowered. Cloud knew he met his match. Like hell if he wouldn’t try, though.

“Oh?” Sephiroth, in his unique 1st Class dark attire, silently chuckled, shoulders shaking from amusement as if this were the funniest joke on the Planet. “Afraid, are we?”, Mako-emerald eyes glittered with mirth, leather-gloved hands capturing Cloud’s chin, forcing the younger man to meet his eyes. Helpless, Cloud offered a defiant glare, outright hatred radiating. 

Unfamiliar pressure of rough lips to his own, that familiar piercing white noise began flooding his brain. The most _shameful_ part had to be his own eager, clothed, erection, pressing right up against the other man’s. Heat against heat.

_No._

His mind grew hazy, a part of it whispering false reassurances, like old times. Her cold, disgustingly familiar voice nothing but a twisted Siren's song. As if the tendrils already deeply latched into his brain, firmly refusing to let go. Sickeningly familiar. 

_No._

Sensation similar to his motion sickness acting up, needing to calm his queasy belly or else the bout of nausea would overtake him. Everything was a lie. His former idol would betray him again—too many times, already numerous, to count. Too much blood on Sephiroth’s hands—and Cloud’s own—to ever learn to understand. To undo any damage long done, when learning to trust proved impossible with what that monster had done to countless loved ones.

_No._

He pathetically whimpered in the ex-general’s embrace, mind going blank. Hazy. Sephiroth was unbothered, loosening Cloud’s boxers and pants which fell around his ankles. No need to order around _his_ Puppet what to do, that former grunt’s body so willingly did the work for him. 

“Puppet...No. _Cloud_.”; Sephiroth purred in a silken voice, sudden kiss deep and possessive. Cloud panted against harsh lips, own eyes watery despite the color betraying himself; a deep Mako-green. 

“Reunite with me?” Strong scent of leather tangling sweaty blond spikes, almost tender caresses. Such an affectionate offering like the best kind of drug, sweeter than honey, when his Master was so pleased.

“Re...un...ion...” A sloppy, all-too-eager, kiss.

“Good boy.” Slight words of praise, and Sephiroth repositioned Cloud, some fabric rustling. Would Cloud’s own precum coating Sephiroth truly be enough?

“Ready?”

A nod. 

Whether the burning pain was because of Sephiroth’s lack of proper care, or simply being unaccustomed to sex with another man, Cloud stifled the cries he desperately wanted to let out. No showing weakness to _him_ , in the throes of utter, slow, passion with Sephiroth’s length filling Cloud completely. 

A hiccup. The blond understood the harsh ‘lesson’ taught. He needed, no, _deserved_ to hurt. Emotional pain heavier than any physical, his ass adjusted to such strange discomfort, little by little, when a whimper escaped him, nevertheless.

“This is just some twisted game to you?!”

Long brown hair tied back in a dolphin tail, clenched fists ready to fight, fire in those ruby eyes. 

“Let. Cloud. Go.” Tifa hissed each word with hatred.

He merely laughed. Let the woman he loved to mentally toy with, think whatever she chose.

Completely gone and mind utterly blank, Cloud’s head staggered slightly forward, dry lips meeting hers. Despite widening eyes, Tifa immediately reciprocated, but his Mako eyes...

“Cloud.” Gentle. A different yet equally tempting variety of honey when compared with Sephiroth’s words. “Maybe you should stop.” Her hand squeezed his shoulder, brows knitted in concern. Sephiroth continually rising his hips and thrusting deep in Cloud—making the blond _really_ feel him—she’d block out. The content look on Cloud’s face, as if he were truly whole, told Tifa all she needed to; that she couldn’t compare to such a twisted relationship.

With the warmth from Cloud suckling her neck, her eyes shut. Certainly this was Cloud, through and through, but it wasn’t the time nor place for her dampening panties to grow wetter with every caress, every kiss, of his, greedy hands pawing her dark skirt and suspenders.

“ _Cloud_!”; a sharp growl out of concern. It was _never_ anger when he needed her, and when they needed each other.

Eyes fluttering open at her voice, they refocused, clear and light blue to Tifa only. “Ti...fa...” Arms thrown around his neck and forgetting herself, she was overjoyed, offering Cloud the deepest of kisses, their tongues mutually, hungrily, meeting.

“Tifa...”; his voice was more certain, confident, hard length rubbing against her thigh. 

“Oh, Cloud! Mh.” She replied in a mixture of excitement and anxiety, the couple about to do this in front of _him_ was far too...Scratch marks, minor bruises, against her beloved’s neck with Sephiroth’s violent yet silent orgasm leaking out of Cloud’s ass, gave her considerable pause.

Her eyes wet at the visual confirmation of Cloud nothing more than a _thing_ to be used, caused Sephiroth’s smirk to widen. With ease, he pulled Cloud away to offer one word: “Puppet.”

And immediately, Cloud was eagerly loving on her firm body, skirt and panties finally lowered, sports bra and white tank top hiked up, sucking and groping every exposed bit of flesh, her thighs, her abs, her breasts, her neck.

Tifa moaned before she could verbalize a reply, something warm and unfamiliar in her hand. Choking back bitter laughter, her own mind blank due to _very_ different reasons, she began pumping Sephiroth’s cock, thumbing wetness accumulating near the head.

Damn him for being so handsome. Damn him for the living hell he put all their friends and their family through. Damn him for murdering _her_.

“Surprised it’s not mutated because of your ‘Mother’.” Her acidity, utterly biting.

Chuckling darkly, Sephiroth’s rough, gloved fingers, pushed a wide-eyed Tifa down to engulf his length.

“Mmh.” He had to pace himself in coming, again. “You seem to be enjoying yourself.” His eyes shut. How many years had it been, since he last enjoyed the delicate touch of a woman?

Mockingly egging Tifa on wouldn’t deter her, concentrating on the task at hand, her aching, exposed, pussy already showed more than words could. Although, she’d sooner kick Sephiroth’s dick off than allow him to use either hole. Sex was for herself and Cloud’s mutual pleasure alone...

“Tifa... _mine_...” Groaning out, stirring, dead Mako-eyes glittered with unmistakable jealousy, Cloud’s familiar heat pressed against Tifa’s breast. 

Servicing Sephiroth with her inviting mouth, firmly grasping his base with her hand, tongue lapping underside his cock, she was much more eager to jerk off her partner. Her hand, happily, stroked his pulsating dick with her usual relaxed pace whenever they’d find a quiet moment alone. Cloud, jealous? Cute. Something about that thought caused her pussy to tingle in rekindled want, need, for Cloud to ‘claim’ her. Over and over and over again. Let Sephiroth watch them fuck, as long as he didn’t _dare_ trespass by...

Her thoughts, alas, seemed too late. Sephiroth wordlessly approached Tifa by means of “joining” Cloud once his cock was ready.

Hm. Perhaps he would start with that tight-looking ass of hers, show her that same rough pleasure he gave Cloud? And ensure Cloud took care of her other hole. She wouldn’t know whether to scream in pleasure or pain from the dual intrusion.

Silent laughter only growing due to the flash of horror in Tifa’s eyes, the brawler found herself frozen in place thanks to a Stop spell he’d silently cast, only furthering the man’s dark desires.

Reaching out for her ass cheeks, it was a familiar wet sensation that gave the man pause. Crimson blood, trickling out of his belly. A familiar blade. Not Masamune.

“What?!” Green eyes widening, he growled, so distracted by such unbecoming, utterly perverse, thoughts that he hadn’t kept a close enough eye on the Puppet.

Protectively embracing one of Tifa’s shoulders, his free, trembling, hand continued quaking with its one-handed thrust of the Buster Sword.

“Never... _ever_...lay a finger on her again.” Cloud snarled, his eyes watery while normal and clear. Tifa’s eyes were equally wet in the shock of his suddenly coming to.

A final laugh was Sephiroth’s reply, Tifa firing back with her own icy glare. She was forever unafraid of that monster, despite Cloud’s chest currently thudding like a jackhammer.

* * *

The sweat-soaked sheets of his bed was the first thing Cloud grew aware of, the next, his own screams startling himself awake.

Tifa, in the master bedroom of their villa, stared with wide eyes. “....Cloud? What’s wrong?” She knew better than to spook him with sudden movements, his night terrors the month rare but still an unpleasant reality. Not quite a month since they saved the Planet and defeated Sephiroth. And all Cloud had to show for it was upcoming fresh years of trauma and coming to terms with yet-unhealed grief. 

Their hometown. His mother. Five isolated years. Zack. Everyone in Sector 7. Her. So many countless lives he barely knew or never got to know.

“I’m...” With a shuddery breath, Cloud shook his head. His eyes were unfocused, but he was still _himself_. All that really mattered, at the end of it. 

Tifa frowned, noticing they had no bottled water—what he momentarily visually scanned for—on the nightstand. “Is tea okay?” Her smile was friendly, voice equally kind. “Herbal, maybe, to help you get back to sleep?”

A shaky nod, Cloud’s eyes, wet from unshed tears, meeting hers. He hiccuped. “Please.”

Kissing his temple, Tifa stood, naked as he was, before disappearing into their small kitchen. Another humid night in Costa del Sol.

His almost painful erection, Cloud noticed, did nothing to settle his queasy belly. Feeling equally uncomfortable thanks to a puddle of his own dried sweat, he shakily walked to the bathroom.

* * *

“Your stomach feeling any better?”

She placed the steaming cup of tea in front of him, growing silent, taking a seat next to him on a barstool by the kitchen countertops. The hot mug felt comforting in his hands, despite the humid temperature outside. Maybe only 4 or 5 AM the latest, still rather early in the morning.

“...Yeah.” He couldn’t meet her gaze, instead focusing on the surface of the tea. Dark circles under his eyes stared back at him. Being so shortchanged on sleep—nightmares plaguing his thoughts—wasn’t doing him any favors in the past...what had it been, now? Almost a month?

“Hey.” Her fingertips playfully danced atop his wrist, cautiously testing the waters. “About our talk the other day, moving to the countryside...”

“Mh.” He took careful, slow, sips from his tea. Maybe a little bland, but a splash of sugar or milk wouldn’t ease his undercurrent of anxiety. “But, Nibelheim’s no good, even if it seems like those actors decided to permanently settle in. Too painful.”

“Yeah.” A small nod.

Appreciating Tifa’s distraction, he gave her hand a firm squeeze, shakily smiling.

She returned the warmth, taken aback at his obvious anxiety, subtle but it was there, trembling. Tifa leaned in, lips pressing against his temple.

Cloud let out another breath, muttering something about, “I don’t mind being used. I don’t mind being a Puppet, if it’s for you alone.”

And immediately, her brows furrowed with deep concern, due to his, frankly, fucked up words. Never angry at Cloud. Moreso...dismayed. Stunned. That he’d say something like that.

“Why are you...”; her voice cracked from obvious hurt. Now, she was unable to meet his eyes.

“No. I...I mean...” He swallowed. Returning her hand, rightfully in his own, interlacing their fingers. “You never did anything wrong, Tifa. _Never you_. It’s always been me.”

She sighed a little, letting go but flashing a nervous smile to show no ill will was meant, while quietly sipping her tea. 

The clock ticking on the wall filled the sudden silence of the room. She’d patiently wait for him to talk. She understood it best, so he needn’t explain. Nightmares were weird.

And he just shook his head, back and forth. “I want to.” His voice was dry, cracking as he spoke, as if about to cry. He was trembling, again. 

Tifa swallows. Uncertain how to help him. “Cloud.”

“It’s fine.” Tentatively sipping more tea, sighing and rubbing the back of his tensed up neck. Maybe he should schedule a deep tissue massage, this week.

“It was just...a nightmare.” 

“About?” His new wife’s prodding was gentle. It was a quiet ceremony at the end of January on the beach with their friends. The church, “her” church, was highly considered, but...Tifa, and himself, wouldn't have been able to stop crying, their reasons beyond exchanging genuine vows.

She wasn’t about to push the question unless Cloud wanted to explain in depth, despite her educated guesses.

“...Sephiroth.”; at length, Cloud admitted with visible discomfort. “You were there, too.” 

Sighing, her fingers traced his flaccid member. “Your body’s natural reaction is nothing to be ashamed of.” 

“I...that’s not..I mean...” He flinched before grabbing her wrist. They both still had trouble with their words, clumsy in explanations, but for each other, they’d always try.

“It’s you. Always been you, always will be _only_ you, Tifa.” 

Face growing hot, she leaned in to tentatively kiss his nose, a silly but affectionate gesture. “...Cloud...”

“Tifa, I—”

“Shh.” Two fingers pressing against his lips, she gave him a lopsided smile, muttering into his ear. “I’m right here. You’re safe.”

She began offering a distraction away from his troubles, rubbing his hardening cock between her firm, well-toned, thighs. He appreciated the subtle bounce to Tifa’s large tits while she continued working her lower half, giggling, before Cloud’s tongue messily clashed with hers.

“Mh, _fuck_ , Tifa...”

His eyes rolled in the back of his head. He was, honestly, already close, Tifa’s gorgeous body always his undoing in private moments. Ever since their first night together, underneath the stars.

“You doing okay, now?” 

He blinked.

 _She_ sat next to him with a goofy grin on the opposite bar stool, politely keeping her eyes on his. 

Feeling more than a little awkward, he coughed out, “...Hi?” 

Embarrassing. Tifa was still...!

“Sorry.” She smirked and shook her head, loose auburn hair these days covering her shoulders. Shame. She was cuter with that pink ribbon of hers, he felt. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Her fingertips almost went through him, before caressing his cheek with tenderness. 

“You’ve finally stopped having nightmares about me, hm?” 

_“Good boy.”_

_That cold smile and glittering, catlike, eyes flashed through his mind. Passionately moaning, rather than screaming, against his former boyhood idol, who once upon a time, took everything away from Cloud._

“Not easy.”; a mutter. Eyes closed, he leaned into Aerith’s touch, catching the flower girl tenderly stroke Tifa’s hair. But she didn’t seem to notice, intently focused on her current ‘work’. 

“Just hang in there.” 

Their eyes meeting, Mako-blue to emerald, she winked. “Everyone is going to be fine.”

“What’s wrong?” Sudden wetness of Tifa playfully nibbling his earlobe while carefully minding his stud, grabbed his attention. “You were spacing out.”

Cloud smirked a little, unable to help himself, reaching for her breasts to massage and play. “Ah...don’t worry about it.”

“Mh...”; she cooed at his sensual fingers and rubbed the front of her pussy against him, thighs still caressing him as a thumb rubbed his leaking head. “Say, do you want breakfast la—”

Tifa froze, quietly staring past Cloud. When he looked back to see, there was nobody there.

“I’d rather have _you_ for breakfast.”; he chuckled, whispering in her ear. His fingertips danced across the length of her arm in return for her earlier playfulness.

She blushed as soon as Cloud scooped her up, bridal-style, towards their bedroom, last of their tea long gone cold. “He-hey! I thought we could take a walk on the beach.”

“I’d like that.”, Cloud hummed, kissing her softly over and over again, laying on top of her with their bodies perfectly lined up. That’d be a much-needed, peaceful, way to mentally refresh and start their morning together. 

“But later, Tif. Right now? I feel lighter when you’re by my side like this.”

She wrapped her arms around Cloud’s neck, pulling him close for another messy and lingering kiss, legs wrapped around his waist. Cloud grunted above while they took things slowly, deeply, tenderly. 

Deep seated traumas couldn’t be helped. Bonfires or lighting candles continued to make both uneasy. Natural lighting, whether it was the sun harshly beating down or starry skies lighting their path from above, _much_ better. Natural lighting didn’t have the smell of burning flesh, something a widespread, smoky, fire should _never_ have associated with it. For Cloud personally, doctor’s visits and being injected with needles were an issue that would need eventual addressing. For Tifa, it was the loss of another home, in Sector 7, years after Nibelheim. But at the very least, they had each other and their friends to always rely on. They were all each other’s strength.


End file.
